There Is No Peace Amongst the stars
by The thousandth son
Summary: A wh40k/star trek crossover:    a savage warp storm appears in the halo stars  40k  and spreads a crusade fleet smashing into another galaxy.  hell-bent on finding the traitor, scum who slew one of their captains. UPDATED  FOR REAL THIS TIME
1. Chapter 1

_It is the 41__st__ millennium._ _Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim darkness of the far future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods._

Astropath Helmvus was worried. The Gellar field had flickered right before they entered the warp, and all on board knew what would happen if the fields flickered for even a second while _in_ the warp

Daemons.

Daemons would enter the ship and tear apart the crew. Bursting through the walls and devouring their minds and body's, even as they drove the men mad with their presence.

The astropath calmed himself with knowledge that there were astartes aboard. Sighing, the warptouched slumped in his seat and rubbed his third eye

Astartes. Demigods. Angles of death. The sword of the emperor. His will made manifest. These as well as a hundred other names were justly deserved.

**Clunk...clunk…clunk….clunk **

Helmvus sat bolt upright, as if he had been hit with a grox-prod. Staring straight into the warp he checked the astronomican, confirming that they were in the ultima segmentum, deep in the halo stars. A massive armored hand rested on the headrest of the navigators throne.

"Pray tell Helmvus, where are we?" asked a deep baritone voice.

The navigator gulped. "M-my lord captain Severus, w-we are d-d-deep in the halo s-stars my lord."

Severus frowned. The astartes had a handsome chiseled visage, accentuated by his bristly mustache and scraggly brown beard combination, along with deep green eyes and a thickly corded neck.

The only oddity about him was his pale skin. His skin had tanned somewhat but one would still notice that it was not his natural coloration.

His armor was immaculate, its light green not marred by a spot of oil nor mud.

The astartes had _frowned, _thought Helmvus with mounting terror, Helmvus went wobbly kneed. 'Oh, god-emperor!' he thought.

The marine looked at him. "Helmvus, for emperors sake, stop shaking!"

Helmvus stared up at the astartes for a long moment, terror in his eyes.

Blood leaked from the astropath's mouth. He screamed.

Leaping out of his chair the astropath rolled on the floor, bawling until two armsmen restrained him.

Severus picked up the man by the hood and inquired, "what in the warp is it Helmvus?"

Helmvus stared, after a long moment he murmured a faraway look in his eyes

"I cannot sense the astronomican."

In the black of space an elegant ship seemingly materialized. A circular mainframe sat atop a swanlike neck, which was in turn connected with a crossbar, and two drive nacelles.

Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS enterprise stared out at the black of space from his command chair.

The _Enterprise _had been following a strange anomaly that had somehow appeared in the DMZ orbiting the nondescript planet of burkuss VIII in federation territory

"Sir, we are approaching the anomaly." Asked the voice of lieutenant data. The androids yellow eyes remained fixed upon the screen

"Noted lieutenant." Said Picard, his face and voice betraying nothing.

Several moments passed.

Data spoke up again "sir, should we disengage our warp engines?"

"Make it so."

Picard stared intently as starlines receded into pinpricks of light, determined to find out what had enough power to spike the records of thirty-two anomaly observations centers and hade the general mass of twenty times the size of the _Enterprise. _Questions whirled through Picard's mind. How could something like that appear with no prior warning? How could it have such massive energy outputs? Why was it here?

As the _Enterprise _drew closer with the behemoth it became apparent that it was at least 5 kilometers long.

Picard stared intently at the looming speck. What _was_ it? He thought.

"Sir?" came the voice of commander William Riker, Picard's second in command.

"Yes, number one?"

Riker responded accordingly "Sir, we could magnetize the image for a better view."

"Make it so."

The image swelled to fill the viewport.

Gasps resounded around the deck; Riker sprang to his feet, Picard's eyes widened.

It was a warship.

A warship at least a dozen times the size of a dominion battleship.

What's more is that whatever species created the ship was not afraid of death, skulls emblazoned on gold and adamantium adorned the surfaces of the ship.

And it lay dead in space.

Its running lights however were on. But the most unnerving thing about he ship was not the ship its self, but the Borg sphere docked at one side.

Laertes opened his eyes, the warp current that had somehow propelled them into a warp storm which in turn had expelled them from the emperors light had done some unpleasant things with his mind.

The Astartes groaned and stood up, shaking off any weariness that had not abated when he opened his eyes. Checking his HUD he realized with a jolt that he had been out for five days.

Always combat ready he reached for his bolter, it felt reassuring to have the massive death-dealing rectangle in his power-armored hands again.

Striding down corridors the marine noticed that his navy counterparts were still out cold, he allowed himself a moment of pride in the enhanced biology of an astartes. The fact that he had been effectively slacking off sobered him up in record time.

As Laertes reached the bridge he stopped before the image of the emperor on a massive tapestry that hung above the blast doors, and bowed his head in prayer

Laertes arrived on the bridge-cum chapel to find everyone unconscious.

Save one.

"Brother sergeant, Severus."

His superior looked at him, and cracked a wan smile. "Brother laertes."

"What of the ship?" asked laertes, the ever-tactful

Severus scratched his chin and looked up at the high domed arches, gargoyles and tattered battle-banners adorning the roof, before replying

"Shields are online, though propulsion and weapons are offline"

the screen suddenly flickered. "We are being hailed, hopefully its an imperial ship, mayhap a rouge trader." Said the captain, remarkably unperturbed by the sudden turn of events.

On the screen a servitor like drone appeared with implants scattered seemingly at random throughout its body. Two others stood behind it their pallid flesh covered in sweat and mottled dark areas, their bald heads jammed full of mechanical implants.

Laertes felt his lip curl in disgust. What way was this to treat the machine , by ramming it into the body with no purpose?

The _thing_ opened it mouth and proceeded to desecrate the gothic tongue with its foul presence

"we are the Borg. You will lower your shields and surrender your ship. you will be assimilated into the collective_. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile."_


	2. Chapter 3

Severus's face contorted in rage. "you- you- you, abominations!" he spat "you dare even consider that you could best the imperium?"

He raged. "Warp take you!"

In the privacy of his helmet, Laertes allowed himself a savage grin.

The "Borg" closed communications.

The massive wrought adamantium gates to the bridge hissed open, and the rest of the squad entered. Devastator Demosthenes, carrying a heavy bolter over his shoulder and a meltagun magna clamped to his backpack with no visible discomfort. Tactical marines Vallidus, Helvetvitus, Darius, Sorkin, Ladon and Julius all carried boltguns while special weapons operator Damascus cradled a flamer in both arms. Severus opened his mouth to speak but Demosthenes interrupted. "We heard the exchage over the VERDANT CRUSADER's speakers The other battle brothers are still unconscious, the librarian, techmarine, and apothecary also."

Severus's face went hard "let us recite the litany of battle."

The marines waited at the blast door that led to the docking bay, Laerte's visor's audio input pinged, and multiple heat signatures were converging on the blast door, dozens of them. Sergeant Severus nodded to Helvetvitus; and the marine slammed a melta charge on the door, and dove back. Demosthenes laying on the floor racked the mechanism for his heavy bolter. The door blew open.

Laertes wasted no time peering into the misty gloom beyond, but simply charged through, the first Borg in his path regarded him coldly though a glowing red eyepiece. Laertes depressed the bolter's trigger, and with a cough the machine spirit sent a .75 caliber explosive shell sailing through the air punching through said eyepiece, and turning the creatures head into an unrecognizable mass on top of a truncated neck. Arterial spray painted dark circles on the astartes's breastplate.

Laertes fired a three-round burst into the chest, neck, and head of the next creature, blasting viscera and gore, all over the landscape. The next up opened its mouth and uttered a single word. "Adapting." A blue shield rolled down its body. The marine put a bolt in its throat for its troubles.

Soon though the steady rumble of Demosthenes' heavy bolter silenced the melee . Severus wasted no time kicking the door open, and revving the chainsword clutched in his left hand swung the weapon in a brutal sideways arc, messily disemboweling the Borg on the other side, and turning another into little more than a burning skeleton with his plasma pistol. Three others were rendered down into chunks of bloody meat by the heavy bolter.

That's when a Borg stepped from a side passage, and fired some sort of energy weapon at Darius. His armor took the blast full on and it did nothing more than blacken the Aquila on his chest plate, casually, Darius reached out, and broke the thing's neck.

A steady tramping filled the hallways and almost a hundred Borg turned the corner

The voice of Damascus cried out. "Cleansing flame!" and a pillar of fire shot from the flamer. The things were easily hosed down by the white hot stream and bathed in burning promethium while the pyromaniacal marine waded through the maelstrom cackling in delight.

"BURN, HERETICS!" he screamed. the other marines stomped through the hell, to a door on the far wall.

The door was quickly kicked open, and the astartes stamped through weapons raised. But there were no Borg in this room, simply row upon row of alcoves each connected to I.V Severus peered into one, chainsword raised. What the astartes had been expecting was not what he saw. A human infant lay in the crib, but with obvious Borg implants, and mottled flesh. The thing stared up at the space marine with dead, fixed, yes. Severus stared at it coldly for a moment then the chainsword snarling to life and descending cut off the hideous beeps. The sergeant turned toward his men

"commence purgatus." As one the space marines clamped the bolters to their backs, drew their combat knives and each started towards an I.V.

Laertes left the grub room after he had completed his work. Wiping the blood off of the three-foot long adamantium spike, he returned it to its sheath. Severus looked up at him

"brother laertes, I overheard something through the ducts. These things have queen."

"sir?"

as far as I can tell, it functions something like the tyranid synapse beasts, kill it and-"

"And the whole group starts to lose connections with each other." Laertes finished.

"Exactly" replied Severus "were going to split up, one man to a passage and comb the ship."

Laertes had been searching the ship for ten minutes now, and was beginning to grow unnerved. He had not run into half as many Borg as he had expected, and judging by the explosions and righteous battle cries emanating throughout the ship, his brothers were finding their fair share of foes to kill in His name.

Without warning a voice spoke up not 40 meters away. The marines lyman's ear picked up every word as he advaced

"What do you mean, you cannot adapt to there weapons?" raged a female voice

a flat monotone answered it "they use projectile weapons."

The queen replied in controlled anger. "So, you cannot assimilate some gun wielding zealots?"

The drone didn't reply. It is hard to reply when a three-foot long blade is lodged in your skull.

The queen stumbled back in terror as the drone crumpled to the ground as the astartes advanced in long strides. The queen was backed up against a immense pit with a massive whirring fan midway down undoubtedly powering the life support

"Gun wielding zealot am I?" he roared

The queen went wide-eyed. " N-no don't hurt me!"

Laertes laughed behind his helmet "oh I'll do wore than HURT you!"

The queen screamed as the astartes viciously planted a power armored boot in her chest with the force of a speeding train, sending here falling toward the massive fan blade two hundred feet below.

Laertes watched as the blood streaked fan blades continued to spin before voxing the sergeant "Objective completed, command element neutralized."

Onboard the enterprise captain Picard was debating what to do, when Data's voice cut through his thoughts

"Sir the Borg sphere is detaching."

Picard's eyes went to the screen, where sure enough the sinister circle was drifting away.

Picard furrowed his brow.

"Mr. Worf, energize phasers and photon torpedoes."

"Energizing."

Without warning one of the turrets, on the massive warship a black, double-barreled, blue-ribbed affair swiveled and blasted the Borg ship into pieces with an almighty blue flash.

Several crewers gasped. Picard stared as hundreds of smaller turrets fired into the wreckage .

"sir!" said worf in a disbelieving tone "that single shot was over three trillion gigawatts!"

Picard was awestruck "three TRILLION? "He asked

"yes." replied the klingon "that energy blast had the same power density and heat of a star!"

this worried Picard, why would these invaders need such devastating weaponry? "mr worf, how many of those emplacments are there?"

after a moment the rply came "twenty six, sir."

Picard was dumbfounded, with that may weapons alone, one could turn the surface of a small planet to glass!

He didn't realize how right he was

Demogorgon brought down his chainaxe on the first klingon to enter the _Grimhound_'s access port, cackling evilly the world eator traitor marine gleefully watched the blood' viscera and bone fragments spatter on his scarlet armor. he raised his bolt pistol, trust it into his enemyey,s face and pulled the trigger sending a welter of crimson ichor into the air he paid only a little attetion to the next one before killing it noting the disgusting ridged head and poorly made armor. Wrenching the churning weapon out of the corpse he thunderd down the passage and kicked open the door.

Yeenoghu raised his two handed bastard sword and hacked off the head of a klingon raising a phaser rifle at him

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" he screamed, his voice carrying an edge that hinted at insanity. "SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!" he raged. In the privacy of his mind he couldent belive what poor fighters these things were. And they beleved themselves _warriors!_ He would show them the true meaning of the word.

The _armeggedon knight _ sailed through space on drive exaust, its massive bulk showing thing the brutal weapons fixed on to the hull. But war was the last thing on lord admiral Lupine El Greyson's mind right now, all that was on his mind wass worry. Worry at were they were and why their astropath had suddenly gone uncotious and the _lunar _class cruiser's, obveiously, disgruntled machine spirit had frozen and was not able to mape the local space.

Warboss bigtoof gunznut stared out at space, and at the rapidly approaching planet that his hulk, killroozas and terror shipz were accelerating towards eager to fight once again.

Deep in space an ancient conceince awoke on a dead planet.

The death god opened his eyes.

In the void an insatiable hunger stirred, the norn-queen looked at her starving children and willed her narvahals to awake.

And in the deep blue of the webway _they_ prepared to slake _her_ thirst.


End file.
